Creative nonfiction about life, love, sex, and whiskey

Bacon Nigga

The text came in at 2 am. She had finished the Four Loco that was chilling in her fridge since Thanksgiving. She was a little thrown off at first. She had been trying to kick it with him earlier and it didn’t seem like he was having it. It was also the first time he had texted her.

She’d known this was coming. She bit her lip and stared at her phone, knowing that she shoudn’t go over there. He was toxic, but then again she loved toxic people. If it was bad for her or she knew she shouldn’t do it then it was probably the first thing she was going to do. She sighed and texted back.

k.

They talked, drank, and smoked cigarettes like always, but when did he start smoking menthols? He’d smoked Winstons just a couple of days ago. She pushed it out of her mind and they fucked. Like always.

The next morning she was woken up by him snuggling up close to her. What the fuck was he doing? He knew she didn’t cuddle. Cupcake shit as she called it. To her it signified emotional attachment, which was something she couldn’t handle any more. She got up and went into the bathroom, a part of her wanted to leave before he woke up, but a stronger part of her wanted some dick before she left. She sighed and splashed some water on her face then let herself back into his bedroom.

“Wake up,” she commanded, shaking him.

“No. Not this morning. I’m tired. I don’t have the energy.”

If there was something she hated the most, it was being told no. She silently pouted and resolved to wait until he woke up more.

After a couple of hours, he got up and left the room. He came back with a cup of coffee and handed it to her. She was confused again. She had mentioned before that dick and coffee were the only things that woke her up in the morning. Why was he bringing her coffee? Was he trying to get her to leave or was he being weirdly nice to her?

“What the fuck is this? No cream or sugar?” She asked bitchily. Instead of firing back at her like she expected, he grabbed the cup out of her hand and went to put milk and sugar in it. She sipped the coffee and looked at him skeptically. He was ignoring her and playing Tony Hawk. What was up with him today? Normally she could count on him to give her what she wanted so that she could get dressed and leave.

“You needta stop playing that game and give me some dick,” She said after finishing her coffee.

“Well I was gonna, but since you’re tryna tell me what to do then now I’m not giving you shit”

“Uh yes you are,” she shot back. He ignored her and continued to play. Frustrated, she got up and turned off his TV. He turned it back on, and in response, she took his controller. She was determined to get what she wanted whether he was being a brat or not.

Finally after multiple times of wrestling the controller out of his hands, she straddled him, being sure to block his view of the TV.

“You’re ruining my score,” he complained, but she could see in his eyes that he didn’t really care, “if I fuck you you’re just gonna brag and talk shit.”

“I promise I won’t say a word,” she assured him, knowing full well that she was about to get what she wanted and loving every minute of it.

They fucked, and after a couple of minutes of recovering she sat up and began to pull her clothes on. He was talking to her about how he’d made a pound of bacon the day before.

As she reached the front door and pulled it open to leave he called after her.

“Wait, I’ll make you bacon.”

She walked out. Something was up with him and she thought she knew exactly what it was. He was getting attached. It was time to drop him, and it was a damn shame.